#he doesn't even know her past but he's helping her heal from it instinctively

[mimisempai]

You are enough

Summary

Aziraphale wants to surprise his lover by bringing him his daily dose of coffee at the flower shop and is surprised to find the store closed. With Muriel's help, he learns more about the scars of Crowley's past and may be able to help him heal.

Notes

Our bookseller and our florist learn to know each other a little better...

On Ao3

Rating G -  1901 words

Aziraphale put on his jacket, hung the small "Closed" sign on his door, and left the bookshop to cross the street to Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death. He had decided not to open, at least for the morning, and instead to supply a certain florist with caffeine.

With his hand on the door of the coffee shop, he stopped and noticed that the flower shop was not open. There was no stall of fresh plants and flowers, and there seemed to be no movement inside.

Instinctively, he shot a questioning look at Nina through the window, pointing to the flower shop, but Nina shook her head and shrugged.

Aziraphale walked up to the shop and saw a small sign on the door, "Closed for today."

Surprise turned to slight concern, as his lover hadn't mentioned it at all, even though they'd spent the evening together the day before. Aziraphale dared to knock lightly on the door.

"He's not in."

He looked up in the direction of the voice and saw Muriel leaning out of the window as they added, "I'll be right down."

A few seconds later, Crowley's adopted sibling had opened the door and invited the bookseller into the shop.

Aziraphale, now genuinely concerned, immediately asked, "Is he all right? Where is he?"

Muriel put a hand on his arm and said quietly, "Calm down. I'll answer your questions right away, but first I need to explain something to you."

Aziraphale nodded and Muriel continued, "I know Crowley told you about his childhood and his history. The major lasting consequence for him is not the fear of abandonment, although that is one - I speak from experience - no, the major lasting consequence for him is the feeling of inadequacy. I'm not going to go into the details of how he was abandoned, because that's his story to tell, but you should know that this is his deepest wound. And when that scar opens up, he's in what we refer to as one of his bad days. He isolates himself and usually doesn't talk to anybody. Not even me."

Aziraphale, very sad for Crowley, asked them, "And is there any way I can support him, anything I can do?"

Muriel gave him a long, silent look before replying, "Maybe it will be different with you, so I'll tell you where I think he is. For as long as I can remember, don't ask me why, that's for him to tell, Crowley has found solace in ducks."

She couldn't help smiling at the stunned look on the bookseller's face and added, "You heard me, Crowley has a passion for ducks. He's inexhaustible on the subject. But I digress. I was saying that he finds solace in them, and that's probably why he's in Saint James Park. There's a particular spot not far from the pond with a bench near the Blue Bridge, and that's usually where you'll find him."

Aziraphale nodded and said eagerly, "I'll go there."

Muriel held him back and said gently, "We haven't really had time to talk since you and Crowley... well, you know what I mean. But I wanted to tell you..."

Aziraphale interrupted, "I promise I won't hurt him."

Muriel shook their head and replied, "Oh, that? I'm sure of that, right from the start. I was going to say, don't let him push you away. Be patient."

Aziraphale nodded and said softly, "I promise," then turned to leave when they stopped him by tugging at his sleeve and the next second held him close and said in a whisper, "Thank you."

Aziraphale, unaccustomed to this kind of display of affection, patted Muriel awkwardly on the back, then Muriel stepped back and chuckled slightly before saying, "You and Crowley really are alike.

Just under half an hour later, Aziraphale arrived at Saint James Park, and thanks to Muriel's directions, it didn't take him long to find the spot in question, pleased to see that they had been right.

Crowley was indeed sitting on the bench across from the pond, and unfortunately, even from a distance, Aziraphale could see that it was indeed a bad day.

He continued on his way and sat down next to the florist without saying anything.

Crowley immediately whispered, "Aziraphale, I know it was Muriel who told you where to find me, but I'm sure they also told you that I want to be alone."

Aziraphale nodded and replied quietly, "I know they told me, but I won't say anything and I won't make a sound, so it's like you're alone."

Then he leaned back comfortably and looked straight ahead without saying anything more. 

After a few seconds of silence, Crowley huffed and muttered, "Suit yourself..."

Aziraphale watched the people pass by, saying nothing, not moving, when suddenly Crowley muttered, "Don't give them bread, you idiot. Ducks shouldn't eat bread."

Then he stood up, and Aziraphale saw him walk over to a man at the water's edge who seemed to be throwing breadcrumbs to the ducks swarming around. Amused, he watched as Crowley scolded the poor man, showing him a small bag in his hand. The other man walked away with an exasperated look under Crowley's murderous gaze. Then Aziraphale saw the florist turn toward the water, crouch down, and start throwing things at the ducks, but he couldn't tell what it was from where he sat.

After a few moments, Crowley returned and sat down on the bench again, this time a little closer to Aziraphale, who still said nothing and waited patiently.

Suddenly, he felt Crowley's hand on his, resting between them on the bench. Aziraphale still said nothing, simply returning his hand under Crowley's, whose fingers were almost desperately intertwined with his own.

"I told you I lived in an orphanage, but what I didn't tell you was how I got there. I warn you, it's worthy of Dickens." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle and continued, "I was purely and simply dumped at the gates of the orphanage on what seemed like the day I was born. With only a chain bracelet on my wrist, engraved with Anthony's name."

"Is your name Anthony?"

"Yes, but since that's the name my parents who abandoned me gave me, I don't like to wear it."

Aziraphale frowned and asked, "Then why Crowley?"

Crowley replied, "It was the name of the gardener who took me under his wing, and since he was the closest thing I had to a father, I chose that name, which in fact became my given name. Only Muriel sometimes calls me Anthony to tease me or when they're angry."

Crowley sighed and continued, "Anyway, the reason I'm here today is because sometimes I wake up in the morning and wonder why. What did I or didn't I have that made my parents decide to leave me. Why did they do that? Why did my mother decide to bring me into the world and just abandon me without giving me a chance to show her who I could be? Wasn't I enough as a baby, as a son?"

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's hand in his, inwardly devastated for him, for his pain, and replied softly, "Of course you were. Of course you are. There was and is nothing wrong with you. Believe me, I know a thing or two about feeling inadequate when it comes to my family. Aside from my mother, the rest of my family, including my father, made it clear that I would never be enough. And then I left and realized that the problem wasn't me. I don't have to prove anything. You don't have to prove anything. I'm sure if I ask Muriel, they'll go on and on about why they love you as much as I l-"

Aziraphale paused, aware of what he had almost confessed. Not that he wasn't absolutely sure of the nature of his feelings for the florist, but now was not the time for such a confession as he was trying to comfort him.

Which didn't stop him from seeing in Crowley's eyes that the florist hadn't missed his almost slip of the tongue.

Aziraphale coughed, then continued, "I have no doubt that this wound will never go away, but when the scar opens, think of the people you have around you now who love and appreciate you for what you are, for who you are."

He squeezed Crowley's hand a little tighter in his own, giving the florist time to think about his words.

After a few minutes, Crowley nodded and turned to him, asking with a small smile on his lips, "Are you an angel?"

Aziraphale could not suppress a small laugh before replying, "I can assure you, no, I am not."

Crowley insisted, "But you work miracles, because for the first time in a long time, I don't feel like moping around all day."

Aziraphale said gently, "It's not a miracle, but I'm very happy for you. How about brunch at the Ritz to celebrate?"

"The Ritz?! Wait, don't tell me this has something to do with your... rich family?"

Aziraphale shook his head and replied in a proud little tone, "Well, no, to the boss I'm just Mr. Fell, bookseller, and incidentally he's the only person I agreed to sell two books to, so in payment, instead of the outrageous sum he offered me, I asked him for a table for life at the Ritz."

Crowley first made round eyes, then burst out laughing, much to the delight of Aziraphale, who considered it another small victory.

"Shall we go to the Ritz?"

Aziraphale replied, "Only if you're driving. I came by taxi."

Crowley stood and exclaimed, "Deal."

Still holding Aziraphale's hand, he started to move forward when Aziraphale stopped him, "Wait, I want to know something. What did you feed the ducks?"

Crowley proudly pulled the bag from his pocket and shook it in front of Aziraphale, who saw small green grains dancing inside.

"This is what you feed the ducks. Frozen peas. They love it, and it's good for them."

Aziraphale couldn't resist and, standing on tiptoe, he planted a light kiss on the lips of the florist, who, as they walked away, asked, "What was that for?"

Aziraphale casually replied, "Because you're so sweet!"

"Aziraphale!"

Only a chuckle came back to Crowley as they walked toward the Bentley.

**********

Aziraphale moaned as he closed his eyes around the last spoonful of chocolate cake before exclaiming, "Scrumptious!"

When he opened his eyes, he saw Crowley, chin resting on his hand, watching him with a small smile on his lips.

"What's the matter? Do I have something on my face?"

Crowley shook his head and, without breaking his smile, said softly, "I think I found something as comforting as feeding the ducks."

Aziraphale asked in a confused tone, "What?" 

"Watching you eat. You enjoy it so much, it's fascinating."

Aziraphale wiped his mouth, unable to hide the slight blush in his cheeks at Crowley's compliment, and the florist then took his hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm before saying softly, "Thank you...angel."

Blushing even more, Aziraphale replied, "You're welcome."

As they gazed at each other in silence, ducks and desserts were forgotten, and all that remained was the fragile feeling that passed between them at that moment.

It didn't have a name yet, but it was there, and that was all that mattered.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

The florist and the booksellers series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[rebeltigera]

Hi I have a few small questions nothing to big or complicated I hope.

1) in an old comic" Pif was angry This morning for mac was at least unpleasant . Poor boi wasn't even aware of Wukong's doing" why was PIF so angry and what did macaque do or say about it or was he speechless

2) in another old comic you said "Wukong got bad habit of making his wounds and scars less worth. Mac ain't having it" could you elaborate if that's okay

3) dose wukong or macaque make nest still to sleep in if so do they sometimes invite the other one into the nest even if it’s for a little while.

4) dose wukong emotions/trauma sometimes play up and if so dose macaque helps him or makes sure his kuji form didn’t hurt anyone.

5)And last one dose wukong cook if so would macaque try his cooking (I though it would be funny if he made a bet with wukong thinking that wukong couldn’t cook only to find out his can since in some comics from different people he couldn’t cook)

And I do hope you get better and that you have plenty of rest and find that motivation you need 😊❤️‍🩹

1) SOOO... Wukong basically appeared on her doorstep asking for allowance/blessing to court Mac again. Well, she didn't like it. She got so much hate towards the ginger she needed to rant to Mac about it. And Mac didn't know that Wukong even tried to pick that path back again. He was pretty much speechless , asking only question of what happened.

2) Ok , so you got that powerful god, hero , the Great Sage equal to heaven. Scars is something he gained through his journey to greatness , however those are stains on his image as well. He can acknowledge that someone could get scars , the trauma and pain person could get through. , However he is neglectful to his own pain and what he went through. It made him a better person at the very end , yes? So why to take care of those stains?

Mac ain't having it.

3) so, Mac got a nest on his own island in his bedroom and he always makes one when he meets with Pif n Chang'e ( instincts) . U pretty much need to get permission to enter it if you are someone from outside or an adult. Children got almost free pass.

Wukong doesn't have one. He tried to build himself one but he find it very difficult so he sleeps on hammock.

You gotta wait a bit for them to visit a nest of another.

4) ok I'll touch the subject of Kaiju first

Wukong doesn't use Kaiju for a really long time. Only in Diyu arc , when his grief and pain made him crazy from it

So, no Kaiju in traumas

One of the problematic things / traumas was actually chirping. Some of u saw the comic of problematic chirping. Another is head pains. Burn pains . Instinct malfunction. And many more

Macaque since the healing arc started is always around to help him . As well Wukong is for him. Cuz because of Wukong coming back to his life , it getting turned upside down again.

5) well, he won't burn scrambled eggs I think. But don't get much past that

I'm high on fluff lately and doodle much in traditional. Digital artblock suck

[fearandhatred]

What would you write for the title "Forget-me-nots in your crown"? 👀

this is kinda long so i put it on ao3 too lol. spit this out in 2 hours so there are probably mistakes. apolocheese

<3

Crowley wavers by Jesus's side as he addresses a man named Matthew, sat at a taxpayer's booth, and says "follow me". And the man gets up to do so. Crowley hears the unspoken dismissal for what he thinks it is, and turns to leave, but Jesus stops him with a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Come," he tells him, "let's have dinner together."

They go to Matthew's house that night, bustling with the chatter of the other people Jesus invited to the dinner. Crowley stands next to Jesus and looks around, past the milling disciples and the table of food, to all these strangers. Taxpayers, prostitutes, idolators. Crowley feels lumped in, but also oddly out of place.

"Am I here as a sinner too, then?" he asks Jesus, teasingly, vulnerably.

Jesus looks back at him, eyes kind. "As a friend," he says simply, and Crowley could weep.

Not even a day passes after that before Crowley gets his next assignment from Hell.

-----

Crowley follows the mob all the way from Gethsemane to Golgotha, hidden in the shadows and carrying her basket full of flowers she doesn't actually sell. She sees Jesus's skin, welted and bleeding and bruised, no part left unmarred, but she doesn't interfere. She can't. She would miracle a lighter burden on his shoulders, healed cuts or softer soles, but she knows it wouldn't go unnoticed.

And she's ashamed to face him. So she just follows at the outskirts of the crowd of guards, opposers, and curious strays, and doesn't intervene.

But then Jesus stumbles and falls, pressed down violently under the weight of his cross, and Crowley rushes out without thinking, kneeling in front of him with a hastily miracled cup of water and dropping her basket of flowers from her arm. He looks up at her, eyes unsurprised at her presence and kind, always kind even when blinded with blood. He smiles. "Friend," he says softly before accepting the water Crowley brings to his mouth, and she tenses her jaw to hold herself together.

The mob and the generals stand silently, uninterrupting and observant. A rare reprieve of kindness, maybe, or another act of cruelty.

"After what I did?" Crowley says just as softly, fragile, a statement in the form of a question, trying to still her shaking hands so none of the water goes to waste. When she'd been told of her next temptation, that she would be the one to start the chain of events that would lead to Jesus's death, she had locked herself in for a week, close to deciding to go against orders for once in her life.

But she'd been too cowardly, too weak to do so, again, always. So she'd hid from Jesus instead.

"It is my Father's will," he tells her now as a fact, but with a tone so far from impassive it makes her quiver.

"Well," she says, uncertain and still ready to flee, but content with their proximity. "Is there anything I can do?" To help, is what she means. Let me ease your burden. Just then, one of the guards pushes down on the heavy cross with his foot in warning, brutish in the way he doesn't even look when he does it. Crowley lifts a hand instinctively, whether to nudge the guard away or lighten the weight of the cross she doesn't know, but Jesus gives her a glance of knowing, and her hand falls.

"Be kind," is all he says in response to her question. At first she thinks he just means be kind to everyone, a do-unto-others jab for a demon who betrayed her only friend, or a slight towards the guard. But he says it just loudly enough for her ears to hear and no one else's. And despite it all, she knows him. He looks unwaveringly at her, face honest and open. She knows that it's not just because of the torture and exhaustion he's endured that has stripped him down to his bare bones, but also because that is who he fundamentally is. And she knows he also means be kind to yourself.

She swallows, and the silence stretches on like they have all the time in the world, before the guard finally kicks at Jesus's side and yells at him to get up. He pushes himself onto his knees weakly but without protest, cross dragging down his back and leaving layers of skin scratched raw and gaping.

Be kind, his words ring in her head like they will until the end of time. Be kind to everyone, be kind to yourself. It'll be a long time before she can even start on the latter, but the first she can do. She can be kind to the man with kind eyes, her dear friend, a son with no choice but to do their father's will, a being destined to live only for others.

"Wait!" Crowley fumbles, reaching into her robes to disguise her miracling of more water. "Wait, please."

The guard mutters curses at her under his breath, but blessedly, he lifts an impatient brow in thin acquiescence. Crowley brings the water up to Jesus's lips again, and when he's drunk it all, he tilts his head tiredly in gratefulness. Another trickle of blood makes its way down the side of his face, and Crowley winces at the thorns digging viciously into his head, hammered into his skull like nails.

Unthinkingly, she reaches out and brushes his hair gently away from his eyes, careful not to have any stray strand pull on the thorns. Then, aching, she reaches out for the basket of flowers she discarded, plucking the first small bunch of flowers within reach.

Forget-me-nots. She would laugh if the realisation didn't cause her hands to resume their shaking. Because she is a sinner, she is sin itself, and her and Jesus should not be friends. They should not even be talking. But they are, and they do, and Crowley finds deep in her core that she would kill herself for him to remember her just as they were. Not as what she is but as who she is, as the true self that she thinks he sees when she's around him. As a friend. And she doesn't ever want to forget him.

She digs her nails into her palms to steady them, then brings her hands back up to his head. She weaves the small flowers into the thorns as carefully and intricately as the crown itself was woven, with hands just as stained. Forces herself to look at the blood crusted around the stems, the matted hair. The unworthiness, the uselessness of what she's doing.

When she's done, she pulls back with a sharp inhale as if coming back to herself, and looks away almost guiltily from the superficial bandages that are her small, insignificant flowers. Hates herself immediately for thinking that she of all beings could be the slightest balm for someone paying the price of sin.

But Jesus has never judged her for anything, and when she chances a glance back at him as he struggles to his feet, he's still looking at her. Looking at her with love, and with kindness. She thinks the kindness might mean more to her than anything else.

She slinks back into the shadows as the crowd moves forward.

-----

When they reach Golgotha, Crowley has discarded her flower basket, and she spots Aziraphale instantly in the growing crowd. She contemplates leaving him be, but she wants to get closer, so the chances of him not seeing her would be slim. She pushes through the crowd, steeling herself against Jesus's cries of pain. When she slithers up to Aziraphale's side, he turns and smiles at her in acknowledgement. She doesn't try to smile back.

In any other situation, she would laugh at how the only two beings she's acquainted with are an angel and the Son of God. For now, it just hurts.

"What–" she starts, then clears her throat as her voice cracks slightly with clogged-up tears. "What was it he said that got everyone so upset?" This time, her words come out as flatly curious and uncaring as she intended.

Aziraphale huffs out a breath. "'Be kind to each other'," he quotes.

"Oh," is all Crowley can reply at first. She turns away from Aziraphale to blink a sudden onslaught of tears away. "Yeah. That'll do it."

She stays until the sky darkens, long after everyone has gone and she's the only one in this place left alive. She lets the tears fall, then, looking up at the man splayed out on the cross, as human as anyone could be. She doesn't know if she'll ever be the same again. If there'll ever be anyone to care for her like he did.

Before she turns to leave, a single forget-me-not dislodges itself from the crown of thorns atop Jesus's lolling head and drifts softly down, landing softly on her outstretched palm.

[echoedcrosshairs]

Unseen Scars ~ p.2

Summary: Female Jedi survived order 66 hides out in the underground of Ord Mantell. Hiding out in Cid's parlor keeping your head down you see Rex's face and get sent backward in time. (Gif by @dreamswithghosts)

Warning: Order 66 Jedi Trauma, Feeling Haunted, Soft Rex, Angsty and Love

Word count: 2.7

Masterlist part 1

Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself. Your nerves were still on edge tempting you to flee being around the rest of clone force 99 even if their chips weren't activated they were still at risk at going nuclear at any moment. Although the walk back to the parlor soothed your nerves being Echo and him again but going into the parlor into such a cramped space didn't help. Rex positioned you behind him hoping it would help sooth you, his arm went around your waist ready to shove you away if necessary. Nonchalantly Echo had placed himself between Rex and the rest of his brothers, he may have trusted them with every bone in his body since they rescued him but you were still the commander to him. They both wanted to protect you even from a non existed threat. It was comforting that after all this time Rex and Echo just had to look at each other to know what the other was thinking. The 501st may be gone but the bond between them lives on.

"Do you think the Commander will rehabilitate?" Tech said flatly looking at you then back to Rex mind conversation, "Obviously I disagree with the systematic eradication of the Jedi, she does not possess the same mental fitness as we clones have been bred to endure and the order has seem to take a heavy toil on her mental aptitude for returning to the fight."

"The Commander-" Rex started, "Can speak for herself," you cut in.

You swallowed looking at Tech, "A wise man once said Truth enlightens the mind, but won't always bring happiness to your heart. It is a lot to accept and understand but it doesn't heal the fact my own men, men I trusted with my life and fought beside for years, tried to terminate me nor the death of so many allies. That same man also said 'Ignore your own instincts at your own peril," you paused to look at them and up at Wrecker before your eyes shot back down, you couldn't help feel that something was wrong but the force was beckoning your silence, "I am not ready to find myself in that position again."

"Well get them out," Echo said defiantly, "We'll never be a threat to you, ever."

"I'll be in touch," Rex nodded pulling you away from them towards the exit but waited to speak until he put a decent amount of distance between you and Hunter, "The force is telling you something isn't it?"

"They have to get them out, soon. How did you get yours out?"

Jesse... Vaughn... Your mind wandered to the battlefield, having the 501st at your side. The boys always wanted to die in battle but never like that. You wiped the corner of your eyes, "They were good men," you choked out when he was done.

"The best."

The both of you continued down the street in silence, at some point your hand found his. It still hurt to look at him but his presence helped the pain, "Now what?" you whispered.

"You can stay here... or you can help me save my brothers, I have to try."

You looked at him, the conviction as dedication across his face was the same one he had before a battle, "I'll come," you whispered before you had time to think it through, "Don't know how much use I'll be, Tech has a point."

"It doesn't matter, just having a Jedi with us is enough especially you Commander," Rex said squeezing your hand, "We should gather your belongings, the boys are destined to pick me up shortly."

Weaving between side streets it was an easy back track to your tiny place, Rex found a bag and quickly packed your clothes as your hand rested against the slats in the floor concealing your past.  You scooted up lifting the slate with the force letting your free hand dig out the pouch after putting the board back you opened it retrieving the saber. The weight felt foreign in your grasp, the metal cool to the touch. You flicked it up into the air catching it with the other hand, just like riding a speeder. Looking over you saw Rex observing with a small smile before he returned to packing, you tucked the saber away.

"Are you sure about this?" he said slinging the bag over his shoulder but not looking at you trying to hide the grim expression. He would keep giving you a chance to go back to a normal life if you wanted one even if it hurt him, the war took so much from you he didn't want to be the reason you lost any more.

"Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself," you stated with a heavy breath, it wasn't the simple answer you knew Rex wanted but it was the truth, "If you remember Anakin and I were never one for running when things got tough. I think I've hidden in the shadows long enough." That statement was the first sliver of hope you had in a long time. Your eyes found Rex's, fondness had swept over them at the mention of the old days, the simple days. Keeping eye contact you took the short steps across to him tucking your face in his neck holding him. Your body still screamed run but your heart told you not to let go.

His hand found your back rubbing it, "We should get going," he sighed not wanting the tender moment to end, "Let's meet the 105th," he smirked.

"Did you really just switch the numbers?" you said with real genuine laughter.

"No, but I think I'll start calling us that if you make that beautiful sound again," he said putting your arm through the crook of his, "Let's go."

Finding the ship wasn't hard, it was discreet for the most part in the back of the docking station. The only tell tale sign that it was different then any of the standard ships around the port had been a barely noticeable white mark barely indistinguishable in the shape of Ashoka facial mark hidden near the bottom of the haul by the ramp.

Rex squeezed your hand tightly finding the nervous expression on your face, "None of these men will ever be a threat to you," he said giving the ship three solid knocks.

Your heart shook as the anticipation grew, these are Rex's men. Deserters of the Empire, they could be trusted. Right? I trusted my men... Clam grew over your skin as the ramp finally touched the ground. Looking up you found a green trooper looking down at you, one of master Yoda's men? You watched the trooper salute, standing at attention coughing to get the attention of the other trooper hanging near by who repeated his attention.

"Commander, this is Nemec and the brother over there is Fireball, at ease," Rex said giving them a stiff nod.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Nemec said as you walked on board after Rex.

"She's a little skittish around us clones so give her breathing room."

"Don't blame her," Fireball murmured, "I barely ever want to see our face again," he heard Nemec cough finding the glare he was giving him, "Just saying, I can barely stand to look at it after what our brothers did."

"His chip's defective, deteriorated but unlike Tup's it didn't execute the order early. It's out now. He took the loss of his General hard and found me soon after," Rex whispered.

"Let's get out of here, I'm going to show the Commander around," Rex said gesturing away from them, "Refresher, their room, my room, mess... sorta," he shrugged, "storage closet, I could turn that into your private room if you want one," he shrugged again nervously rubbing his neck at the unspoken question hanging in the area.

"I think I should share yours Captain, I'll want my own bed of course."

Rex's heart skipped a beat, "I can arrange that," he tried to keep his stern dignified expression but felt like a cadet, of course their had been nights together but never like this coexisting in the same place, "Sorry," he coughed finding the responsive blush across your face. "Anyway, you can take my bed for now. I'll go grab a spare mat from the storage room," he said setting the pack down on his bed excusing himself so you to get settled in. It's not like before di'kut, the reminder settled in his bones wondering if all of the closeness had been to much. He tried to steal himself to that possibility. Taking a seat outside the room, he forced himself to clear his mind until Nemec walked over.

"You sure about this, Captain," he said jetting his chin towards the door, "We need a Jedi on our side but are we sure being in these cramped quarters is good for her?"

Rex understood his brothers concern, he looked at the door for a moment before placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "She was always the backbone holding the men together after every major loses and always giving us hope. It's time we do the same for her." His tone was firm, "I trust her, she choose to come with me for a reason. I believe she knows she can work through this."

"Did you ever think she came because she loves you?"

"Trust her judgement, Vod," Rex smiled taking his hand off his shoulder, "Let's head to base." Turning on his heel Rex rummaged through the storage closet grabbing the rolled up mat before heading back to his room. Our room, he thought smiling. When he returned all of your belonging had already taken up the spade signifying your stay with him.

"I haven't seen or slept on one of those in ages," you smiled softly looking at the poor express for a bed as he laid it out, "I'll take the mat if you want the bed-."

"Don't even think about taking the floor Mesh'la," he said bringing his gaze to yours, "We'll head to our base to plan to get The Bad Batch's chips out and you can see everyone else, I know their's a couple other 501st troopers who'd love to see you," he smiled.

"Who?" You asked going wide eyed.

"Hawk and Dogma," his grinned widen, "I definitely didn't expect it either," he cautiously said walking forward letting one hand fall to your hip, "A Jedi and a captain, whatever are they going to think," he jested hearing you laugh melting some of the burdens in his heart, "I've missed you every passing moment, Cyare," his grin faltered for a second before returning, "No matter how long it takes I'll wait for you to be ready again," he said letting go, "the rest of my life if need be. Now I have to try to figure out how to get their chips out."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Mesh'la?"

You took the step back towards him wrapping your arms around his neck, the familiar scent, feel of him and the warm tiny tug through the force, "Thank you for being patient," you pulled away wrapping your arms at your side, "We can use the republic scrap yard, their were rumors of a ship being delivered."

"And you know this how?" Rex smiled crossing his arms.

"I did have a salvaging job to get by."

"I'll let the boys know and we can devise a plan, welcome back Commander."

You followed after him, skin prickling at Nemec and Fireballs presence. They each offered a small smile as you took the sit next to the Captain as he started planning. He was quiet for what seemed like forever when he hand stretched out and rested in your thigh as he kept working. You looked down at it, lip quivering as tears threaten to fall again. It's a different time, you placed your hand over his as you chimed it time to time with what little information you had.

"Rex?"

"Yes, Mesh'la?" he said not lifting his eyes from the task at hand.

"I'll love you the rest of my life too," you whispered squeezing his hand, "I think we're getting ready to land again," you said feeling the ship slowing down.

Rex gave a tiny nod standing up interweaving his fingers with yours, guiding you towards the cockpit finding Fireball bringing the ship down. You observed the low tech handmade building and the small cluster of troopers already waiting outside, greens, greys, a red and then the 501st blue. You saw the familiar valiant tattoo across Dogma's face and then the red hawk wing tattoo's on Hawk's temples. Walking off the ship Rex placed himself between you and the rest of them, each set of eyes noticing the hands bound together. You felt like you were going to be sick being around this many troopers, it apparently must have paled you.

"Commander, you're not looking so good," Hawk pointed out.

"Let's get some air Cyare," he said softly, "Hawk, Dogma both of you are coming with me to help a couple of our brother's get their chips out."

"Yes, Sir."

Gently you felt Rex stir you away from the crowd away from prying eyes towards the edge of the small base, guiding you towards a crate to sit on overlooking the forest, "Better?" he asked quietly.

"Do you think Tech's right? What if-."

"A wise woman once told me when I was losing faith in myself; A soldier's most powerful weapon is courage. Courage begins by trusting oneself. You choose to come with me, Commander, you could have stayed on Ord Mantell and lived out a regular civilian life but you didn't."

"You've been waiting since Tibrin to toss that back at me, haven't you?" you said with a smile sad laugh, your gaze travelled to the sky remembering other sayings you were taught; Who we are never changes, who we think we are does. One must let go of the past to hold on to the future. To seek something is to believe in its possibility. I was- I am Jedi, a Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic and partner of one of the most highly decorated Captain's. I do not run when the battle get's rough, I stand beside my men and face evil head first. I am survivor of Order 66, I lived to fight another day. You exhaled a breath you were apparently holding. Turning your head, you took his appearance forcing your mind to calm down and body to still. The familiar earthly tone of his eyes; the arrays of brown to shimmering golds, the short blonde hair, the expressive eyes just for you and a smile that puts very sun to shame. While your body tried to fight but your mind had already come to terms with reality, it might take for your body to catch up but it would be worth it. Rex would be worth it. You watched his hand come up and caress your cheek, your breath hitched as you leaned into it bringing your hand to his.

"Possibly," he smiled finally answering the question, "Ready to go back?"

"Yeah, I want to see the boys," you smiled.

Rex pulled you closer to him, "Let's go see the boys," he affirmed keeping his hand around your waist stirring you around troopers until he found the two other blues in the back rolling up their sleeping packs.

"Sir," Dogma saluted before staring down at Rex's arm, "Regulations-"

"No longer exist," Hawk pointed out, "Called it," he chuckled.

"Nice to see you too, Dogma."

"Sorry, still getting use to it," he added nervously.

"Me too," you mumbled.

"I am happy for the two of you," Dogma quickly added, "When are we leaving?"

"In a couple hours," Rex said feeling your body slowly continue to tense. His mouth fell agape when you reached out hugging the two of them, "I've missed you, boys," you whispered before pulling back. Rex's hand found your waist again feeling the muscles constrict themselves into knots. He stirred both of you back to the ship to your's room, "That was bold," he murmured eyeing you cautiously as you climbed onto the bed.

"With great risk comes great rewards," you offered, gently tugging his hand towards the bed smiling as redness flushed across his face. Sheepishly he removed his poncho and armor discarding it to a regulation neat pile on the floor, “How about until we leave I try to get use to being next to you again?”

“There is no other place I rather be then next to you, Commander,” Rex smiled climbing into the bed, “Just tell me when it becomes to much, I don’t mind taking my time with the scars I can’t see.”

[notrightnowsblog]

I saw a very bad take in an otherwise good review of WWDITS S5:E6 Urgent Care. It said that Nadia only rescued Guillermo to keep the secret of his Van Helsing heritage and the household's knowledge of it. Not because she cares about him.

I completely disagree. Yes, this is what Nadia says to the camera crew, but Nadia has to my memory never admitted to caring about any of the others except Lazlo and her Dolly. In fact she is often insulting or dismissive of them, much in the same way she is to Guillermo. Yet no one doubts that she cares about Nandor and Collin Robinson and yes, even the Guide. She shows her affection in other ways like prepping go bags for them, having orgies with them, and attempting to save them from whatever ridiculous mess they have gotten themselves into now.

We have even seen her go to lengths to help Guillermo in the past. Such as playing along that she's his girlfriend to his family and restraining herself from killing them when their Van Helsing instincts make them hunt her. She complains openly about it because it is quite inconvenient for her but she does it. Calling Guillermo "our familiar" is as close as she's capable of admitting that she cares about him. It is claiming him as part of her family. And Nadia is loyal to her family.

Now, I don't deny that keeping the Van Helsing secret is a reason she goes to Guillermo's rescue, but not the main one. If that were her only motivation, and Guillermos was only her roommate's familiar, she would not need to save him to keep the secret. She has at least two options that would go smoother for her: she could let the doctors kill Guillermo, then kill them, and steal his blood sample. Or she could act astonished when she learned that he was an heir of Van Helsing and kill him herself for his treachery. Either option would fix that problem.

But Nadia is frantic to reach him when she realizes she can't talk the doctors out of "putting him down." She won't let them kill "our familiar." He's family and she doesn't want to lose him. And yes, she was blasé about his broken leg but from her perspective broken bones heal easily. And as far as she knows it was the result of his own clumsiness. If someone else had done that to him, that would be a different story.

Even after she learns that Guillermo has been turned and should be furious with him she still goes on a rampage to save him. Of course she yells at him when she finds him. He's done something very stupid and which will, she believes, result in Nandor killing him (after she just went to the trouble of saving his life) and her for knowing about it, and then killing himself. Plus he went and got turned by Derek of all people. He couldn't even keep it in the family!

So then she agrees to keep it a secret. And not because she was afraid of Nandor killing her if he knew that she knew. Had she told him right then, immediately after finding out herslf, Nandor would spare her. She would be the only one who hasn't betrayed him. She isn't keeping it a secret to save herself but to save Lazlo, Nandor, AND Guillermo.

In summary, Nadia of Antipaxos cares more for her family's safety than her own and anyone saying differently, isn't paying attention.

[femslashfictournament]

Femslash fic tournament: Round 1.2

A Fine Line Ship: Emma Swan/Regina Mills Fandom: Once Upon a Time Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719105/chapters/1332707 Summary: Upon Regina's banishment, the small town of Storybrooke becomes protected once again by an enchantment that prevents anyone from leaving or entering Storybrooke. Emma and Regina find themselves on the edge of the town, wishing for a way to the other side.

I hope this holds up because I haven't reread it in years, but it was one of the first femslash fics I ever read, and I remember just having to sit there and think for a minute after I was finished reading it about how emotionally affecting it was.

Everything In Its Right Place Ship: Monika/Natsuki/Sayori/Yuri Fandom: Doki Doki Literature Club Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37064287 Summary: Monika has the perfect life. She's the president of a literature club where every girl is her girlfriend. Over the course of a year they've helped each other heal from their traumas and learned to love themselves for who they are. After a special weekend where the girls celebrated Natsuki's decision to move in with Yuri, it seemed like life was just getting better and better for everyone.

And it was. Until the day Monika woke up in a world where none of that was true. A world where everything revolves around a boy named only 'MC'. He's such a strange boy, with such mysterious eyes. Eyes that make you lose all sense of time... and place... and self.

(A story about queerness overcoming all odds)

Poly ship fic about what happens when some girls from a VN VR experience aimed at straight dudes fall in love with each other.

though i burn, how could i fall Ship: Shadowheart/Lae'zel Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50733301 Summary: "No matter how desperate I get," Shadowheart says through gritted teeth, "I'm not that desperate."

But her body is betraying her. It's responding to Lae'zel's suggestion, rising like a well-stoked fire, and Lae'zel lowers herself to the ground near Shadowheart's feet. Shadowheart's legs shift to accommodate her in an instinct so bone-deep that she can't stop it before Lae'zel is filling the space.

"Give in to your desires, istik. Submit to me. In my experience," Lae'zel says, crawling slowly up Shadowheart's willing body, "the hatred will only make it sweeter."

And then Shadowheart is being kissed so thoroughly that she forgets her own name.

OR

Shadowheart doesn't know much about her past, or her future, or even who she is beyond what Shar asks of her. But she knows one thing. She hates Lae'zel. She hates her so much that the gith hardly leaves her mind, and there's nothing that could possibly change that.

A tale of misplaced hatred, building trust, and finding new purpose.

I had no idea how much character development could be conveyed through smut until I read this. It integrates the events of the game, and even some dialogue from the canon romance scenes, in a way that feels natural and believable. If you've played the game and can handle the kinks that are tagged, please give this fic a shot.

[nemainofthewater]

ooh, let’s see if I did this right — either The Blood of Youth or Nirvana in Fire

Hello! Thank you for voting <3 Ok, let's do some Blood of Youth!

(some spoilers for the end of blood of youth under the cut)

"All of your martial foundation?" Lei Wujie asks. "You don't even have a little left?"

He is promptly attacked on all side.

"Ow, ow, stop!" he protests. "Why are you hitting me? I'm just asking a question!"

"I thought you'd got more tactful in the time you spent in Tianqi," Xiao Se says. "But you haven't changed a bit."

"It's fine," Tang Lian says. "Stop hitting him; it's better to get it all out the way now, in any case."

Sikong Qianluo hisses, "This is only because Da-Shixiong asked me to!" with one last punch before leaving Lei Wujie alone (and mostly unbruised).

"I was recovering for a long time after Shifu rescued me," Tang Lian says. "They didn't know if I would recover; the fact that I'm alive is already a miracle. If my martial foundation is the price to pay... then I am happy to pay it. I would sacrifice far more to have seen you all once again."

"Da-shixiong, you were that injured?" Sikong Qianluo's voice is small. She leans over the table and - shoving Lei Wujie out the way - his Tang Lian, burying her head under his chin as though she was once more a young child of ten, seeking comfort from her older brother.

Instinctively, Tang Lian's hand comes up to stroke her hair.

"I've only been able to move from my bed this past month," he says. "I had to relearn how to walk."

"Then perhaps it isn't that you've lost your martial foundation, so much as haven't regained it yet," Ye Ruoyi says. "Da-Shixiong," she continues, her gaze steady, "you've been training since you were a young child - with your martial ability, I'm sure that your injuries have healed quickly and well. It's been almost a year since you were injured, but as you said you were near death. It will take time to reawaken your muscles, to teach them how to fight once again."

"Ruoyi is right," Xiao Se says. "Even if you have lost it, who says it can't be rebuilt? You're in good company, Da-shixiong; between myself and Ruoyi you have two experts on rebuilding one's skills. And luckily for you, I have just finished my business elsewhere."

"I can help you fight!" Lei Wujie says, eyes gleaming.

"No, I will!" Sikong Qianluo says. "You'll be too rough-"

"Too rough? Who was the one chasing Xiao Se around Xue Yue City!"

Tang Lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry as he watches the pair of them descend into bickering.

"Don't worry," Xiao Se says. "We won't let either of them beat you up; we have to protect our Da-shixiong's face, after all."

"You might be disappointed," Tang Lian says.

Xiao Se shrugs. "So what? If it's truly hopeless, then I'll teach you how to cook and you can stay at my Snowfall Villa. Or you can help teach the juniors at Xue Yue City. In the worst case scenario, we wait ten years and search for Immortal Mo Yi; he owes you a favour and he was able to help Ruoyi."

"Whatever happens," Ruoyi says, taking his hand, "We aren't going to let you do it alone."

I hope you enjoyed it, Vote Wangxian!

[raayllum]

Hey! Do you think viren is dead? Is this it for his character? And if it is, why didn't he check up on Claudia before going off to die? I feel like he might have decided to stay alive if he saw what happened to Claudia. What do you think?

Talked about this before (see my "tdp viren" and "morally ambiguous fam" tags for other thoughts on him and S5 mage fam stuff) but

No, I don't think Viren is dead. There's no real story reason for Claudia to lose that much blood (or for the story to make it that any of Viren's children would've been viable) unless it was to be a loophole. There are also unresolved relationships that could be developed further, largely between him and Soren and him and Kpp'Ar.

The framing implies that Viren leaves the beach after he refuses to kill Sir Sparklepuff, AKA Claudia has overall recently gone into the water (with no way to follow her without dark magic, which he's just sworn off) during daytime and well before she emerges at night time.

While this could be it for Viren (and I would be fine with it if so; just means the story is going in a different direction that I expected / find more personally interesting, perhaps than the alternatives I can imagine) S5 does a lot of work to change him in a way that could feel unfulfilled if it doesn't go further for the sake of other characters' arcs.

Like I don't think Viren as he is now at the end of S5 - oppositional to Aaravos; regretful; protective of both his children; acknowledged the nature of his various choices; sworn off dark magic - will really change that much if he does live past S6, but I think by virtue of living, he'd have to face a lot more of his own damage outside of Claudia and bring interesting things to the table for the trio / Soren. (I also very much want Kpp'Ar and Viren to interact again post-decoining but like - what fic is for if nothing else.)

And I don't think anything would've made Viren decide to stay alive by killing Sir Sparklepuff, even if he had seen what happened to Claudia. His love for his family is what began his path of like, real damnation, and what saved him in the end (which bodes very well for Callum's future arc as well). If anything he would've helped Terry bandage the leg, taken Claudia aside, apologized and hugged her and try to convince her to get off the dark path he'd led her on before it could take anything else from her, that she should leave Aaravos too.

Whether she would've listened to him is another matter entirely, though.

There's also the fact that Viren knows a lot of things (possibly did star magic to bring Soren back? What he did precisely to heal his son in the first place that was so horrific Kpp'Ar stood against him after a lifetime of dark magic? How he got his staff? etc etc) that he'd be able to answer, if Kpp'Ar doesn't do it for him.

But yeah - until S6 comes along and makes me (possibly) booboo the fool, I'm sticking to my gut instinct and saying we haven't seen the last of Viren, and I'd be surprised if he's fully dead

[thricedead]

Hi Clari! Do you still have your slow damage essay/post? I've been meaning to reread it because I really loved your analysis of the subject

Yesss!!! Here it is under the cut, I edited it a little bit!

Slow Damage is a story about the cyclic nature of abuse and its consequences. Abuse sticks its claws into you and rakes down, leaving behind four ditches - orderly in some cases, and more chaotic in others. Either way, even as the skin and flesh heal, there is now a generous amount of empty space in you, and Slow Damage poses a question - what will you fill it up with?

I went into this VN knowing only that Towa enjoys rather extreme forms of self-harm, and I have to admit that this was precisely what captivated my attention at first - the promise of a severely damaged protagonist, and the hope that he is more than a run-of-the-mill masochist. I was not disappointed.

The extent to which Towa relates injury to sex and pain to pleasure immediately made me suspect the sort of trauma he must have endured in the past. For a moment, I thought: Isn't the solution to this mystery a little too obvious? Looking back at the lack of subtlety, though, I don't think that Towa being a CSA victim was supposed to be some kind of a grand reveal. The point wasn't in cracking the mystery, in understanding motivations and getting concrete answers - the point was observing one case of the consequences of abuse that will tell us - no, ASK us - something about all of them. How does the thing that happened to Towa keep happening over and over, and in silence too? What mechanisms allow it to happen, and to stay hidden? What all sorts of people, some of them generally good and kind, participate in these mechanisms?

Let us retrace our steps.

Maya forced her own son into violent prostitution from a very young age, all the while teaching him how to use charms to his advantage, how to manipulate people and fulfill their desires in order to gain control over them. The way she taught those things methodically seems to insinuate that this was something she herself had been taught at a young age and passed on; the art of assuming the exact persona you need to prod into people's insides. This isn't to say that her actions classify as excusable - in fact, isn't the fact that she's putting her child through the horrors she experienced herself even more disgusting? I wonder if her lessons in human psychology were all for the self-obsessed purpose of turning her son into a copy of herself... or was she, in a twisted way, thinking it would help him endure and rise the way that she had? I am going to let that question hang in the air - after all, the point of Surodame isn't to review individual motivations, but to ask questions about the grander scheme of things. That is precisely why I cried together with Towa upon reading the strangely frail account of Maya's diary: I just can't make [parenthood] work... realizing that the slow-growing disease had spread beyond that mother-son duo, beyond the walls of Euphoria, beyond Shinkoumi... in every corner of the world, there are hundreds of Mayas and Towas, and millions upon millions of Silent Takus wondering what they could have done differently.

For starters, I want to focus on Towa himself. When I think about him, the first phrase that comes to mind is 'a void filled with the dregs of abuse'. Though he himself doesn't remember his abuse throughout the first three routes, his every move is a reflection of it: every sexual encounter both a self-inflicted wound and an attempt to affirm: IT'S ME WHO CHOSE TO DO THIS TO MYSELF, which is why Towa's breakdown upon realizing that not even his scars belong to himself was especially painful. I like the choice of stating that Maya did not like nor understand art. She couldn’t bring herself to understand it. Though the penchant for uncovering people's dark desires and the ability to read them were all influenced by Maya, the instinct to paint those is Towa's. The art that almost died together with him was the one thing that belonged to him alone - and yet, there is comfort in the fact that the true route ends with him saying that he doesn't know whether he'll paint anymore or not. What matters is that he quit performing euphoric episodes, closed the cycle of abuse and perpetuating Maya's ideals. The sight of the atelier in the main menu all clean and bright upon Towa's vision returning to normal made me strangely emotional; the reveal that the chosen painting was never dark and muddy, that the atelier was never all that dark and scary... the final tour around Shinkoumi with everyone telling Towa that he looks like something good had happened to him... at the end of a very painful road, Towa still found some comfort in existing.

But what of Fujieda? Of Madarame, of Rei, Taku? For a BLVN, isn't it strange to go 6 paragraphs deep without mentioning any of the love interests?

I will preface this by saying that, to me, the very point of Surodame lies in the fact that none of them are ultimately good boyfriends to Towa. I really wanted to interpret the actions of the three sans Madarame more charitably than I do now, but in reasoning with myself, I failed at every single attempt. They are, to varying degrees and each in their own way, a dead end.

Let's go route by route.

Murase Takuma is a kind man in a way Towa is not - this is driven into our heads from the start. He is a doctor. He cares for children, workers and the elderly. He even lends an ear to them outside of his responsibilities as their physician, overworking himself to the brink of death. His role as the caretaker of a hopeless, bleak person like Towa, an addict who is destructive towards both himself and others, can certainly be perceived as saintly. Even his actions of keeping Towa's past from him, burning letters and throwing away packages, were all for the sake of preserving Towa's sanity! However, though Taku's intentions are pure, I can't read them as benign. Well - he is probably the most benign of the four men Towa involves himself with, being the only one who never physically lashed out at him. Neither abuser nor victim, Taku is a third thing entirely - an observer. A hider, a savior, a carer... and at his core, though not intentionally, an enabler. I do agree that there was nothing Taku could have done to save Towa as a child. There just wasn't a way to take Towa away from Euphoria while Maya lived. I do believe that he did the best he could, patching Towa up time after time... staying throughout the years, changing the bedding, throwing out the liquor bottles. Eat something, Towa. Smoke less, Towa. Once Towa got a lot older, Taku grew to love him romantically. Though I find it unsavory, Towa is over twenty-five at this point so it's not really some big deal. The much more dreadful power imbalance than that in age is the fact that Taku is holding the entirety of Towa's past, his abuse, and his identity over his head. Once again, I'm not calling Taku out as a gaslighter here - not in this route, at least, since Towa had no interest in his true identity at this point anyway. But you can't deny that their happy ending - embracing under the cherry blossoms with a calmer, more mature looking Towa, his hair a clean black, an orderly cardigan billowing behind him - is a sort of a quiet misery. Taku loves the man he saved (raised?), the man who presumably quit painful sex for his sake… but Towa doesn't even know what it is that he's being saved from. Towa is a hole. I really might not have interpreted this ending so negatively if it wasn't for the scene of Taku showing Towa a photograph of him as a little child in a restaurant with his mother. This smiling child prostitute in an orderly little boys' getup, dining with his pimp mother and his future lover. It felt to me like a means of truly driving into our brains the extent of Taku's helplessness, delusion, failure, and LIES. The photograph is a fabricated reality, a fabricated happy past that he feeds to Towa. In this route, this is what Towa filled the ditch with - a daydream, and sweet gentle sex that doesn't scratch his itch. I can't give them more than five years before Towa falls back into his old habits. The end.

Now we get to Rei. Rei is also a sort of a carer to Towa, though a more casual one and closer to him in age. Let us review Rei's situation with gender - due to his toxic, abusive father (who was also a child sex trafficker, might I add!) degrading him for his homosexuality and saying it made him less of a man, Rei developed an aversion to masculinity, speaking in onee-kotoba and growing out his hair and such. At some point he attempted to cut off his own penis in Towa's presence, but ended up hesitating and not going through. All in all, he decided to drop all things associated with traditional masculinity other than street fighting, which he uses to vent out his frustration. This is the key word here – FRUSTRATION, which all of Rei’s pretenses fail to rid him of. Rei's frustration grows to hundred percent when he is forced to enter to-the-death matches to get his deadbeat father out of debt. Killing opponent after opponent, Rei grows more frustrated and less and less like his friendly effeminate self. I think the key solution to the question of 'how is the writing of rei's gender handled?' Is the fact that Rei rediscovered his masculinity through violence. And Slow Damage is not a game that... likes violence, encourages it, or overall relates it to anything remotely positive. I don't think that Rei reconnected to his masculinity in a healthy way, and I don't think it's meant to be read as a cool arc about finding the lost self. Most of all, it's not his or Towa's happy ending. Speaking of Towa... the thing is that Rei only realized a sexual attraction to Towa once the amount of violence in his life amplified to the max. As his level of 'manliness' grew. Their sex scene is very frank about this - after he and Towa beat each other into bloody pulp, he says something along the lines of 'I'm a man and I want to fuck you.' I think it drives the point further that he was the only virginal love interest to that point - when he perceived himself as a woman, he had no violent sexual appetites, or at least didn't see a way towards realizing them. Once he 'reverted' into a man though, he could fuck Towa. He could claim his prize - who has no objections, given that it feeds perfectly into his own penchant that I described at the start. And their ending, showing us a casually manly Rei biking with Towa? We have no proof that he's in any way abusive, nor that they're unhappy, but... this 'new gender' of his, he built it up with bricks made of blood, some of it Towa's. I don't think Rei reached a happy ending. I think Rei is a feminine person, or at the very least a gender nonconforming man who retreated back into the closet within the violent festival that his father brought upon him... many will disagree, but this is how I read it - a manhood built up on violence equals unhapiness for two. I think Towa and Rei might stay together longer than Towa and Taku would, but it won't bring either of them any healing. The end.

Madarame's route is the simplest, since Madarame does not hide himself behind any masks. He is a violent, shameless rapist who gladly continues paving the road of self-destruction that Maya had left off half-finished. I think that placing this ending behind Taku and Rei's serves as a bit of a wake-up call to those who felt pacified by the former two - um, hey, hello? Did you forget? This is not a 'happy story'. For some three hours you watch Madarame break Towa psychologically, repeatedly rape and torture him - only to release him back to Taku and Rei for Towa to find that he can't truly fit in among them anymore. What purpose does it serve? Well, I think it just shows us that there never was any long-term happiness waiting for Towa with either of those men. I think the purpose of the Madarame route, beyond preparing us for the true route, is to totally nullify the effect of the first two. A 'forget what you thought you knew' type of detail. Broken into obedience, a wild blond Towa kissed Madarame after a boxing match. The end.

Fujieda.

He perplexes me the most, and I'm still not entirely certain in the answer I arrived at. Why would the author who penned this painfully real story about abuse have Towa end up with a man who - midway through the route - raped him? I tried to work wonders to explain this to myself, try to interpret it differently, but the truth is concrete. Fujieda raped Towa in a fit of rage, and then with a sober mind continued acting like everything was normal between them. Why would this be in a 'painfully real story about abuse?'

...precisely because it's painfully real. It happened to Towa. It happened to a million others. It might happen to you. When you hit your knee, do your fingers not venture to fondle the bruise, press down for a small reminder of what the pain felt like? The fingers are usually kind, but once in a while, they press down.

And again - Fujieda does not consistently abuse Towa. In fact, he gives him his first taste of truly pleasurable sex in a scene that pushed me to the brink of tears in its sad honesty. When Fujieda has a good day, he gently washes the remnants of assault out of Towa. But when he had an extremely bad way, he was the perpetrator of the assault. I think it's 'painfully real' for Towa to end up with such a man. After coming to terms with his past, this was the best he could do. This was as much as he could save himself. The VN ends on such a note - don't be too happy for him, and don't be too sad. I do believe that Fujieda brought Towa some comfort and clarity, but I can't say that this isn't a dead end, too. Just a more peaceful one in the light. In the ocean.

What's the point then, if Towa ends up stranded no matter what choices you make? Let's return to the beginning, to the ditch abuse made in you. Sometimes you fill it in with fantasies, sometimes with violence, sometimes with the 'next best thing', a 'he's a good man you know, he's only rough when he drinks' type of marriage... no matter what, fact is that all abused kids seek to fill it in with something familiar. Something they know and recognize. It yearns to be filled, it aches for it - whatever you're ready to dish out, just put it in! I think this merry-go-round of victims and perpetrators is what Surodame is trying to turn our eyes towards, or at least force us to stop averting them. So that you may not scorn the Towa in your life, so that if you are a Towa yourself, you may find comfort in knowing that someone somewhere dreamed you up, empathized with you and lead your hand along the path. Why, then, do we not see our Towa free?

Well, the future is long. He was in an ocean. Maybe he walked out.

[sketch-guardian]

I might've read something you said regarding a Nightbringer version of the classmates 👀

May we know a little bit more about them?

Much love! 💞

- Isa

You read well dear Isa😌I was thinking of creating some art concepts of the RAD classmates in Nightbringer🤔therefore of their past selves and as soon as I have time, I will try to sketch them✨Also of course! I don't mind giving some info about my ocs😊actually I will probably write more than I should🤣but I want to be as precise and exhaustive as possible, so as usual I will try my best🙈also thank you very much for the love! I'll send some right back at you💜 (p.s.: I think there's no need to specify this, but obviously the behavior of the Nightbringer RAD classmates will be a little different than the present):

RAD CLASSMATES IN NIGHTBRINGER

(considering that MC arrives in the past about one/two years after the end of the war against the Celestial Realm, I will set their characters and their social status at that time)

DEMYA

In that period Demya was definitely scruffier and had trouble speaking and verbalizing her thoughts, in fact she was still learning how to communicate, read and write, she acted mainly on her demonic instincts (a bit like Satan-) and she was slowly civilized, to re-enter the society of demons and to avoid being locked up in case she created problems for Devildom, especially since she would not have tolerated the idea of ​​being put back in chains...she would seem quite curious, but also hesitant and wary of new people besides the other RAD classmates, especially of humans, whom she still held grudge against considering what they've done to her and her family and her instinct would be to tear them apart, but Azul is trying to teach her self-control and the fact that not all human beings are like that, maybe even MC could help her change her mind and have faith in humanity again.Aside from that, she occasionally showed moments of joy, especially when she was allowed to feed as much as she wanted and when learned something new, still she seemed to have mixed feelings towards Domnra, despite him being the one who (unintentionally) freed her. Demya generally looked a little closer to Azul, perhaps due to the fact that he was the one primarily concerned with her rehabilitation, when he was mentally stable enough to do so of course. The three seemed to share some kind of strange sibiling relationship and having never seen angels at the time, having spent her childhood on earth among humans, Demya doesn't particularly mind communicating with them like other demons, despite them being angels not too long ago, however she would be slightly intimidated by Zuri (which would then pass in the future). With Odon she would feel quite at ease, being born a demon too, most likely there would be a little more understanding, complicity and Demya would not show fear, just due to the simple fact that she had never heard of them

DOMNRA(MOBIM)

At that time Domnra's anger issues were certainly more unmanageable and alternated with moments in which his only comfort was to be alone in the darkness, his new element,where he could cry and scream without appearing weak. He felt betrayed and abandoned by what he once thought of as home, but he knew he had to stay strong for Azul, the one who had taken their fall the hardest, and Zuri, who was fighting for giving them the chance to live and not just survive in Devildom. From a physical point of view he was also in quite bad shape, it took him a while to heal from his scars and it took him a few years to get used to being blind in one eye, wounds all caused during the Celestial War, but one of the things that put him more in trouble was the birth of Mobim, a curse that had been placed on him, a manifestation of the innocence and goodness he had lost, a constant reminder of his past ... at first, Domnra couldn't even look at its face , that frightened littlte creature, bound to him and forced to follow him forever, once Domnra even tried to escape to Earth for a while to avoid Mobim and it was there that he freed Demya by mistake. Partly he didn't even agree to take her home, but eventually he convinced himself that maybe having a demon on their side could be useful in Devildom and maybe such thing as helping someone,like he used to do as an angel, would distract Azul enough from his depressing episodes. Only over time Domnra would learn to accept Mobim as part of himself, however in the past their relationship wasn't the best

AZUL

At that time Azul was really in bad conditions, of all people, he was the one who took their fall from the Celestial Realm the worst, losing his beautiful butterfly wings and being attacked by the angels he used to consider his friends..those things were what made him snap into a blind madness, into a killing spree that he didn't think he was capable of, he had completely lost his mind for a brief lass of time, his usual light blue features turned a pitch black, the trauma was too much to bear and in addition to killing many angels, he also risked attacking Domnra, if Zuri hadn't intervened to make him come to his senses, she also took care of their wounds and then found them a place to stay, in the early days they all lived together for a matter of comfort and practicality, only later everyone would find their own home. Azul alternated moments of depression with moments of anger, but he tried to stay positive and Demya's arrival gave him an opportunity to distract himself and to train in order to control his new mood swings. He met new creatures, including spirits and ghosts, developed new skills and gradually began to become increasingly demonic and sadistic, and despite everything he began to better metabolize these changes and to accept his new life

ZURI

In that period Zuri didn't seem particularly upset by the events, at least on the outside. She felt a kind of duty to hold on and to protect the friends who had fought alongside her during the war, therefore she kept within herself the pain and the sadness she felt for how events had unfolded and she concentrated on keeping Domnra, Mobim, Azul and then Demya safe as a result, healing their wounds and fighting against any demon who dared facing them in their weak states. Although she had no regrets for her actions and although she felt freer than before, Zuri knew she no longer held an important position as before and she felt responsible for the safety of her friends, who had yet to process their traumas, so after having heard that other fallen angels had risen in position and importance by defeating Cerberus, she chose to act so that she, Azul, Domnra and Mobim could live with a shred of dignity and decided to go and face alone one of the most dangerous demons in hell, that barely showed themselves around and that many feared, even Barbatos...Odon. In the end the plan did not go as she had previously planned, but the result was still beneficial, she accepted Odon's conditions and from that moment on, the other demons began to respect/fear the other RAD classmates

ODON

In that period Odon limited themselves to observe with their eye-like creatures how things were going in Devildom, they had personally retired some time ago in a more hidden and peaceful environment, in the middle of the woods, in the meanders of a cave, so as not to frighten anyone anymore with their frightening presence and to reflect on themselves and their future, probably on the advice of Lord Diavolo too, one of the few who had the courage to speak to them, even when they were children. Diavolo told them about his project with RAD and Odon saw it as an opportunity to start over from scratch, even though they knew it wouldn't be easy at all, their social skills were still poor and the memories of their past actions were still too fresh for others demons to be willing to give them a chance, so when an opportunity presented itself, namely the fall of some angels from the Celestial Realm,Odon started to pay even more attention. At first they thought of trying with the seven brothers, but after having observed them for a long time, they thought it wasn't the case and that it would have been necessary to wait some more time for them to settle in,Odon doubted that they would have welcomed their eldritch person ... but in the end, it was another former angel who introduced herself to them, Zuri. Actually, her initial plan was to kill them to take their place and status as one of the most dangerous and powerful demons in history in order to finally get respected, which honestly Odon found quite funny, however they proposed another deal, a pact that would have benefited both of them, without the need for unnecessary bloodshed. The conditions were simple: Odon would be associated with them, consequently making them untouchable and fearsome, while they in return...would become Odon's "friends" or at least they would give him the opportunity to get to know them, giving them the chance to go out and to try to improve. Odon knew it was a strange arrangement, but they were happy that Zuri seemed to be reasonable. Odon used to be a bit awkward while interacting with people in the past and unintentionally creepy too, due to their big smile

[karrenseely]

Hurting and Rambling

Depression sucks. My mood has backslid today. I don't want to be here. I don't want to deal with the dysphoria. I don't want to deal with the hate. Nevermind that most of the hate is just remembered from childhood. Parts of me are so stuck that it feels like now. I don't want to be have to be the one that comforts the little girl in me. It shouldn't ever have had to have been me. It should have been my parents.

She hurts so much. My therapist is on maternity leave as of this coming week. I don't know what I'm going to do with no outlet, with no one to help mediate with the part of me that hurts so much and the parts that hate me and the parts that just want to end it all so all of this just stops.

Parts of me are scared. Other parts of me are just done. And the part of me that hate myself is running rampant. He scared the ever living light out of me a few months ago. Up to that point, I had no idea how much self hatred I had. But that day, he made it very clear. In comes this intrusive imagery of him stabbing me with a large knife, savagely, over and over and over and over again. And I so wanted to do that to myself in that moment, never mind that it's not really possible to stab yourself in that way over and over again. The feelings were there. I hated myself viciously and savagely in that moment. I've never fantasized about physically hurting anyone, not even my parents. So this imagery and the feelings that went with it threw me for a loop.

I've kinda been ignoring them for the past few months. But this evening... I just don't want to be here, and I can feel that part of myself egging my suicidal self on... and right now. I don't really care that he's doing that. Over the past 3 months I've been in intensive outpatient treatment. I had TMS therapy, ketamine therapy, psych meds, counseling... And all of it has at most brought me back to my baseline meh at most.

It's not bad, I'm not hurting all the time when I'm at my baseline. But it's still just a feeling of meh. Of going through the motions and not knowing why I'm doing it, but the survival instinct is engaged so I just keep going. I went through all of this treatment to really feel better. Not meh. To actually try and get that feeling of contentment I once had back. But when it comes down to it, none of the things I've done have helped the little girl in me not feel so much pain and hurt. I don't know if anything can help her anymore. Maybe I ignored her too long. Or maybe there's just no healing what was done to me. I feel so broken. I feel like the freak I've been called in the past. And she doesn't understand why her parents didn't love her, why they hated her. So she thinks she's a monster too. Why else would her parents hate her so much?

I've just started equine therapy because I'm running out of options and I thought that it might help... but it's infrequent. And it's conflicting with my ketamine therapy. I do feel better when I'm with the horses, but it's short lived. And last session was hard, we kept getting close to the hurt and pain, and then stepping back. Dancing up to the line and back. That takes its toll too. I'm fairly certain that's part of the treatment. But tonight, everything feels too slow. Nothing seems to be working. And the part that doesn't want to be here, that doesn't want to deal with this world is really strong tonight.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not planning on doing anything about it. I haven't been fantasizing about how I'd end myself. Nor do I have access to my preferred methods when I did fantasize about how to do it. But the feelings of not wanting to be are there. I haven't gotten anything done today. All I've been trying to do is distract myself. I tried sending some of that pain and hurt to my therapy horse to hold for a little while... but I'm not that attached to him yet... He's a nice horse... but he's just an acquaintance at this point. I don't have any strong feelings for him, any significant connection... so it just feels like I'm going through the motions... I wonder if that's the fact that I'm Demi or if it's just because I'm hurting so much and don't trust or form bonds easily. Maybe it's both... or that could be a chicken and egg question. Regardless, it's not really helping. He doesn't feel real when I'm not next him.

Nothing feels particularly solid at the moment. Not even the bonds to my chosen family. Not because anything bad has happened with them. I think it has more to do with just how much the little girl in me is hurting, is longing for a feeling of belonging, completely and unconditionally. And she can't see it for all the pain she's in, that her chosen family does love her, loves her a lot. Other parts aren't helping as they know my SO isn't physically attracted to me. That she doesn't see me as a partner or a lover. And they think that's necessary for an SO, never mind my being ace. Nevermind that the most my fantasies involve of her is cuddling. They see the lack of physical contact and romance as damning of our relationship and love to insert constant doubts, particularly because she's that way with her other SO's. And these parts will latch on to any evidence to help support it, no matter how unreasonable that evidence is. But the end result is I feel lonely despite my chosen family.

We're poly, so it's not like I can't look for someone to fill the need for physical contact... but, it's hard. I didn't really get to be a kid, I almost never dated. And I learned early and deeply how dangerous it is to tell the people you love your deepest needs, fears, feelings. So even if I find someone I can't get myself to talk about anything meaningful. But then I don't know if that's what society has told me I need to do/taught me...

I mean, if I write it down and give it to the person... or talk via texting, I can sometimes get those deep feelings across. But to verbalize them? I've never been able to verbalize them with anyone I love. Even when I came out to my parents the first time, I did it via letter because I couldn't be verbal. The second time was the same... I think. It's all kinda fuzzy. The last time I came out to them and put my foot down, it was still via letter. I dunno. Maybe if I'd gotten the love and support I needed then, I would be able to verbalize my feelings in the moment today. But maybe not. Maybe it's just inherent faulty wiring in me, like all the other faulty wiring...

Being Trans, ADHD, not knowing if my feelings are atypical when it comes to SO's. Having recently begun to want to have sex w/ someone but not with my SO even though I'm fairly certain I'm ace. I mean, do I even really understand what love is? What it means to be in love? What it means to be ace vs just some completely broken miswired human being?

Can I be ace if a part of me wants to have sex with someone? I thought I was demi, but this part that wants to explore that form of physical contact doesn't want it to be with anyone I already have a strong emotional bond with... Is it because of the trauma? Is it becuase there's something wrong with me? Some faulty wiring. Or is it because I'm just a freak of nature that never should be?

I thought I understood what love and romance were, because I thought I felt those things in movies and stories where it was happening... but now. Now I'm not so sure. I mean... I never really understood sexual attraction. Anyone that I had the hots for, it wasn't that I wanted sex with them, it was just that I wanted to be in there presence. I wanted to get to know them, to be friends... These days, I understand how not typical that is. Worse, it's rare for me to even have those feelings about a person in the first place. And that makes it that much harder to find someone who would even remotely return those feelings. That's not to say there aren't people out there that want a sexual or romantic relationship with me. I know of at least one... but I don't feel the same way. My feelings rarely mesh with anyone else in a way that would meet either of our needs wholly and completely. The closest I've gotten is my current SO.

Add to that that I know how much self hatred is present in me, and how am I supposed to love anyone wholly and completely when I don't even love myself, when I feel like a monster, a pervert. Someone whose own parents couldn't even love her. How could anyone else? And so these thoughts just run around and around in my head. And nothing ever really changes. I still feel bad, I still have no idea how to interact with people to indicate I'm interested in them in terms of a close a relationship. I never got that education growing up, because I couldn't be the teenage girl I was at that age... And now, it feels like it's too late, even though the rational part of me says otherwise. It's easier to believe the parts that hate me.

And so no solution is in sight. And now I just end up having fantasies that a someone will come and save me. Will sweep me off my feet and just hold me and comfort me and love me, except, I don't want to be called George. And I want to be able to give back. I want to be able to give back so much... Now that I think about it, I suspect that's why I'm constantly trying to help my SO in lots of ways, whether it's paying for stuff, or giving rides, driving, or getting dinner... it's because I want to give back and I don't know how else to do it. I feel like all I do is take. Constantly take, that people only tolerate me because they pity me, not because they want my friendship, or want to spend time with me. Because who could ever want to spend time with a freak like me? So I give... I try to give what I have to give. I try to be there, I try to listen, I try to find solutions, I try not to criticize, I never demand, I never ask for what I truly need because if I do, then they'll realize that they just tolerate me and don't need me around anymore and drop me.

I've wandered all over with this post. I'm sorry. My thoughts tonight are not organized. I just needed to write. Even if it's nonsense with no real purpose other than to go in thought circles. It's hard to heal when you don't trust your own perceptions, when you feel like a monster, when it's so hard to trust the people around you. It's even harder when you live in a society that hates you, actively wants you dead and has no compunctions about killing children who are like you.

That's the most terrifying thing about the Right wing terrorists in power across the U.S. they not only don't care that they're hurting kids. They're actively trying to kill the kids in my community... because they know they can. Because they know they can get away with it. It's horrifying. It's even more horrifying watching that evil spread to other countries across the globe. Why? I cannot fathom anything justifying what they are doing. Why would anyone want to hurt and torture children? Why does our society hate children so much? Why does it hate its future so so very much?

Why do so many people claim to be Christian, and then do the very things Jesus would abhor. Worse, they do it in his name. Why? I don't understand. When I was younger, I really thought Satan had won, afterall he seemed to be in control of the churches, the religions, the followers. But these days? I know he doesn't exist. This is all the people's own doing. They are the ones that choose to do these evil things. Not some imaginary being. But people, who feel it's ok to murder and torture other people. Who feel it's ok to murder and torture children. People are responsible for the own actions and inactions. Including myself.

Last year, these terrorists targeted my child's school. Because a parent couldn't accept their trans son and told the terrorists about it. Multiple bomb threats were called in to the school. Traumatizing the children, traumatizing my child. Traumatizing the parents. We don't live an era where it's inconceivable that someone would bomb a school full of children. Not anymore. Not with all the mass school shootings. Not with the evidence of school bombings occuring in other countries. No. There is nothing benign about these threats. They are terrifying. And that's what terrorists do. They work to instill fear, and they do whatever they feel is necessary to do it. Eventually, threats won't be enough. They'll follow through on it. Gods forbid it be at any school, much less my child's. And this is the worst part, our government doesn't take any of this seriously enough. Not really. Yes it's aware right wing domestic terrorism is the biggest threat right now. But it's not doing much of anything to stop it, to curtail it. Because right now it's fashionable to torture and kill LGBT+ kids. Because our society has never seen LGBT+ people as human.

Even after Hitler was defeated, and LGBT+ were freed from the concentration/death camps along with Jewish and Roma people... my people were thrown right back in jail. We were never freed. The world has never acknowledged what it has done to us. It never acknowledged all the LGBT+ people they put back into prison after the war. Everyone else was allowed to go free. The world sympathised with the horrors that were inflicted on the people in those death camps. Except for queer people. We apparently deserved it. We never should have been freed. The world agreed with Hitler when it came to queer people. That hasn't changed. Our society still agrees with Hitler. If it didn't then none of these terrorists would have been allowed to have any power whatsoever. None of them would be allowed to terrorize the queer community as they have. Queer people wouldn't be living under the fear of capital punishment for being queer in other countries. We wouldn't be the world's scape goats for all the ills that exist.

How can I or any of us heal knowing this? And you know what the hardest part of this is? Unlike every other minority group in the world. Way way way too many of us don't have our families, our communities of origin to fall back on. Because our families hate us as much as the world at large does. We don't have the love and support of our families to help us through all this dark horrible stuff. We do the best we can by being each other's chosen families, to be each others communities... but that's not the same. Knowing your own flesh and blood hate you, at best want nothing to do with you, at worst want you dead. That takes its toll, even with the support of communities of individuals who have gone through similar things. Don't get me wrong. We are a resilient group of people, we've survived, some of us have even thrived. But then, we've had to be. We had no other real choice.

And on the individual level? It's hard. It hurts. And some of us are more resilient than others. Some of us survive by believing the propaganda that we're evil, or that certain groups in our community are evil. Some of us don't survive. Some of us survive, but hurt all the time. Some of us... Some of us are fortunate and have loving supportive families. And that is an amazing thing, the most wonderful thing. That families exist today that love and support their queer children and siblings. That so many do is a miracle given the climate we exist in. It's a testament to the hard and diligent work our community has done over the last century. To the sacrifices we've had to make. But it also makes it that much more disheartening when society takes a nosedive and starts targeting us all over again.

Healing is hard enough in the best of times. It's nearly impossible when the world hates you. I don't even know if it is possible when both the world and your family hate you. And I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of constantly having to justify my right to exist. My right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Of my children's right to the same. Of my community's children's right to the same.

I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to have to, or need to. I just want it to all go away. Because unless you are what your society wants, you're garbage to be tossed out when ever you inconvenience that society. And I'm so done trying to get it to change for the better. I'm so tired of it. These days I just want to go to some uninhabited part of the world and create a sanctuary for people to exist, to be compassionate for each other, to understand that we as a species could be so much more if we loved and supported one another rather than try to kill each other over this mote of dust we live on, over one trait one group feels is superior to another group. The problem is, I don't think any place like that exists, I don't think it's existed for millenia... so no I'm tired and I don't want to be here, I don't want to be part of this world. And we don't have the technology to colonize Europa so we can't leave (Billionaire predators have already laid claim to Mars and the Moon)

It is late, I'm going to try and find something else to distract myself with because I'm just saying the same thing over and over again and it doesn't change anything. The world still sucks. And I still hurt so very very much, and the little girl in me still never got the parents/family she deserved and needed.

[caracteresolaires]

20-26 for two ships of your choice!

:D thank you Tabby!!! i'm gonna cheat and do three c:

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

TIFFANY & NICK: Both are fundamentally helpful people and so they try their hardest to comfort the other, and are pretty intuitive about what works best, honestly. Tiffany can ease stress with her healing abilities, but even if she's not actively healing, a cool hand on his forehead will do nicely. Nick acts as a calming presence, but he's good at getting her to talk, and helping her process exactly what she's feeling. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Alessia's natural instinct is to touch people; depending on the stage of their relationship, Atlas' immediate response to that is to tense up further (he's not used to this). Eventually, he gets used to her and her touch does what it's supposed to (calm him down). When she's upset, he will embrace her, which she greatly appreciates. ARABELLA & SILAS: These two have known each other for decades, and even though they've been apart for twenty-five years, they still know each other better than themselves. Silas knows that Arabella needs space; Arabella knows Silas needs a simple distraction, then a long drive with someone he can talk to.

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

TIFFANY & NICK: Nick does. He wants a house. Tiffany has a wagon, which is pretty close; she doesn't want a full house though, at least not now. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Both Atlas and Alessia are homebodies, so they both like being at home - that said, they aren't very domestic people (especially Alessia). But home is a sanctuary for both of them. ARABELLA & SILAS: No, not really. Vampires tend to roam around. Silas' gang has a base of operations in Agave City, but they still roam around a lot; Arabella moves from motel to motel every few months.

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

TIFFANY & NICK: Once they open up to each other, yes. Tiffany doesn't mind a bit of playful ribbing, and Nick finds he's a pretty amicable, playful man (once he's not under the thumb of a strangling religious cult). ATLAS & ALESSIA: Alessia tolerates some teasing, but not much. She is free, however, to tease as much as she likes. Atlas doesn't mind, but the double-standard is a little annoying. ARABELLA & SILAS: Neither of them are all that playful to begin with, but neither one will bat an eye at a little joke to the other, as long as it's not a sore subject (which they would never).

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

TIFFANY & NICK: Service is the strongest - they are both people with a strong desire to help others. Both are self-sacrificing and devoted, both have a need to be understood by someone like them (so it's good they found each other). There's a big theme of like, initially seeming opposite (in personality, not goal) but through opposition realizing the core of the other person is similar, if not the same. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Safety and comfort are their primary themes. Alessia has led a very exciting life before this, but now she's looking for someone more stable and calm to ground her; meanwhile, Atlas is (albeit unconsciously) seeking more excitement in his life. Both find what they're looking for in the other, and work to keep each other safe (more Atlas' game) and comfortable (more Alessia). This is also the first time either of them have been in a real romantic relationship, so there's an air of discovery too. ARABELLA & SILAS: Forgiveness, 100%. Forgiving yourself, forgiving each other, and accepting the other's forgiveness - especially for Arabella, who made a big mistake in the past and can't accept that he's forgiven her. :lays down:

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

TIFFANY & NICK: They compliment and clash at the same time :) He's an Aquarius, she's a Leo, but they have each other's Suns as their Risings (so Leo Sun/Aquarius Rising for Tiff and Aquarius Sun/Leo Rising for Nick), meaning there is a deep understanding and also a polar opposition working in tandem. What results is a devoted relationship punctuated by philosophical arguments, but it's okay. They love each other. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Alessia is the dominant force in the relationship - not to say that Atlas is a pushover, but he's pretty easy-going, so doesn't mind her pulling him along. They're both very stubborn, though, so if there was ever a large disagreement they'd butt heads. They don't disagree that fiercely very often though. ARABELLA & SILAS: Overall they compliment each other; Silas is a very, very patient man, and Arabella needs that patience.

25. Do they share a room/house? If so, what does it look like and how does it compliment their personalities?

TIFFANY & NICK: Yeah! They live in a teeny wagon together - it's her wagon so it mostly reflects her. He'll add to it, though, and Tiffany is happy to let him. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Atlas moved in with Alessia and so far he's really only made the kitchen his own; that and his rooftop garage, but the apartment itself? Very much Alessia's. ARABELLA & SILAS: They do not, though Arabella moves into the vampire gang's motel about halfway through. She's very spartan, no memorabilia. Silas is more sentimental and has keepsakes in a room, but they don't share.

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

TIFFANY & NICK: If they had their druthers all they would do is sacrifice for the other, but one major aspect is Tiffany eventually getting used to the idea of "home and family" (which is Nick's great Need). It's something she has a hard time getting used to, but she'll do it for him. ATLAS & ALESSIA: They make small adjustments all the time, but neither sees it as a sacrifice. I mean, okay, he is willing to take Darkness Power to keep her safe, but in the day-to-day, they just adjust to each other without much fuss. ARABELLA & SILAS: Arabella is a very independent person, and Silas doesn't impede on that. I don't think he wants to, but he does want to make sure she's safe - but, he lets her have her own life, and never forces anything. That would be cruel.

[ofchaotics]

no one's going to stop me from seeing you. ( avery )

for a moment there's a silence that falls across the line , and he thinks that maybe she's fallen asleep . . . hell , maybe she's fully admit to defeat and hung up . wouldn't put it past her , either way . the distance is debilitating , so much so that he finds himself wide awake until the sun begs to rise .

maybe it's his fault . rushed back into the swing of his career before fully allowing the both of them to heal . it doesn't help , either , that the demands of their lives keep them split in two . it feels a bit like falling apart in slow motion , and he's fumbling all the pieces of himself that once made sense .

an ache in the very back of his head , calloused hands instinctively rubbing at the flesh at the nape of his neck . tousled hair disheveled and unkempt , because what , really , was the point ? without her , it all seems a little useless . pointless . there's no proper way to even begin to describe the roller - coaster of emotions he's been riding on the waves off the last few weeks . he knows nothing . nothing but the fact that he misses her . every atom he's composed to begs to be reminded of her touch . of her skin . solely of her .

a curse it is , this kind of soul tie , because distance feels eternal and time feels like a stab wound . he sighs , a hand now carding through his hair .

" . . . if it were up to me , avery , i never would have left . "

[darkpoisonouslove]

A Victory in Failure

Summary: Valtor has to go on a mission and Griffin doesn't know how to help him when her injury is being used against him. Her healing magic can't soothe his mind so it's time for their love to prove its strength.

I love how this turned out. And hey, it's actually less angsty than my usual stuff while also in character.

Griffin didn’t have to touch her fingers to her temples to feel the rushing thoughts throb there.

The map of Callisto’s capital was so much harder to read than a chess board. With no pieces moving over it, straining her eyes to soak up every color and sharp-edged letter brought her no closer to the full picture in Valtor’s head. Or as full a picture as he had after a couple days of poring through various books on Callistan history, battle strategy, architecture and magical heritage.

A refresher, he’d called it. By the time Callisto’s current royal bloodline had come to power, he’d already collected several centuries worth of magical knowledge. He’d lived through the political changes that had formed the planet’s current socio-economic structure. Yet, his eyes darted over the layout of their capital just like her own after skimming his notes had narrowed the possibilities of what he was after by none.

Griffin inhaled, forcing her rib cage to expand past the warning prickles of pain. The burn that shot from her bruised ribs on the left through the rest of her body overshadowed the beginnings of a headache. Her sight blacked out for a second before her focus closed in on one of the city’s weakest spots. Forcing the Callistan guard to reinforce the building’s defenses could clear the path to whatever powerful object Valtor was after.

“You could create a diversion that would direct their attention to the-”

“I already have a strategy,” Valtor’s eyes were on her, soothing the wound where he cut her off. The calm in his gaze was just the tip of the iceberg.

"What's the point of a partnership if your partner's left behind?" Griffin folded her arms over her chest discreetly brushing over her bruised ribs. The magic bleeding from her fingertips washed over the injury to leave it a minor discomfort in her mind as she gulped a breath to dive into the depths for Valtor’s meaning.

Where she’d attack Callisto’s Palace of Culture from a tactical point of view, he’d attack the royal palace to cause panic. Neither strategy was good on account of him going alone, however.

Griffin shook her head at herself. The Palace of Culture was the center of the capital’s community and arguably the most important–and therefore most protected–building in the realm. And the royal residence had its own guard, high in number enough to stand even against Valtor.

“What’s the point of a partner that risks adding on to a preexisting injury?” Valtor’s voice echoed around her as if trying to leave her unharmed in the eye of his storm.

His gaze pinned in both their focus the little charges of healing magic her fingers were spreading over her ribs. He pointedly refused to look away from the reminder that her vulnerability far exceeded his.

He’d taken the fall in front of the Ancestral Witches. He always did. That wasn’t something she was ever allowed to help him with. They were unyielding about it.

Griffin sighed and closed the gap between her and Valtor. She laid her palms on his chest. “And an equally responsible partner wouldn’t let you go alone.”

If anything, Fallat had been her failure. They’d gone in equally unprepared for the bioluminescent humanoid creatures not just surviving but thriving in a planetary system without a sun. She’d been the one who’d reacted instinctively and gotten herself injured in her lack of planning. Valtor had pulled her out in one piece only to freeze at the inconsequential amounts of magic she was using to alleviate the sting of her mistake.

He hadn’t acted out of panic. He’d seen her take harder hits from Marion and Saladin, even Hagen and Oritel. It had been deliberate defiance. He’d chosen to care more for her and their future than the immediate success of the operation. She’d kiss him senseless if that weren’t most of his incentive to wrap up his solo mission as efficiently as possible and come back to her.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you doubt me.” Valtor grabbed both her wrists in his hand like he did in lieu of restraints–magical or otherwise–keeping her pinned to the bed. His fingers slipped between hers, letting her grab on tightly as he placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I got this, Griffin.”

"And what if you run into the Company?”

They would expect her to show up as well. With that much she could still help him. It could be enough if he used it along the deception magic and brute force the Ancestral Witches had taught him. But they’d also taught him their impatience and intolerance for repeat failures. He wouldn’t come back to her without the magic he was after even if he could.

“You'll need me," Griffin pushed through the dryness sticking to her throat like cotton. Almost as if he was using his fire on her in fear of the tears of pain–emotional or physical–she might shed.

Valtor cupped her cheek and she leaned into him, letting him hold her hands, her words, her breath. “You should rest. There will be other jobs that require your expertise.”

His intent oozed through her skin at the feel of the magic lingering under his. He only channeled all of it where it would burst out at the first movement he hadn’t accounted for when she fought against him to keep both of them sharp. Or when he had to face the Ancestral Witches and their habit of controlling bodies that didn’t belong to them. Only when her presence was of no help to him, even worked against him.

“I’ll be working on our side project while waiting.” She lifted her chin, away from the warmth of his palm, and steeled her spine in resistance against the stabbing pangs shooting from her chest all the way to her fingertips with every breath. “No sense in wasting the opportunity.”

She worked faster without his frustration to manage and his presence to distract her with the fantasies of a job well done. Every day she failed to free him from the voices in his head, he was in danger of believing their cruelty. He would never be self-sufficient with them listening in on his every heartbeat and shaping it to their liking.

Valtor’s fingers twitched between hers and he let her hands drop from his grip to shake off his own weakness and her keen gaze, mapping out the contours of it in his mind. “Griffin-”

Her fists closed in the lapels of his coat and she crashed her lips on his.

He met her momentum without stumbling. Instead, he only leaned into her and let his breath fill her lungs to bursting. It carried the faint scent of smoke as if he’d caught fire from the explosion of power at the collision of their magic. The sizzling energy ran up her veins and wrapped around her to bind her to him. His fingertips ghosted over her ribs before trailing the side of her breast.

Griffin’s whine broke their tongues apart. Running her teeth over his lower lip pulled it into a smirk threatening to interrupt the kiss. It was her voice that did that as it spilled between them at the tingles running over her scalp when he combed his fingers through her hair.

“Griffin.” Her name was a love confession as he brushed his fingers down her neck and over her cleavage as if to make her breasts rise with a new breath after she’d gifted him hers. “You should save your energy to celebrate this victory when I come back.”

A grin broke out on her face.

Her victory. Over the voices in his head.

She could send him out on his mission now. She’d done her job as his partner. He had her strength alongside his own to keep him safe no matter who the enemies were.

[deaneverafter]

Lots of new Beau and Big Sky information today, and I have thoughts 📕🖋🗒💭

It isn't news that Jensen is the nicest, most professional, person to work with, and it's well documented that he utilizes his talent not just to excel in his own role, but to help make the whole project better and more fun. But it still makes me happy to hear someone say it, because it's something worth acknowledging, I think 🥺

All the ladies want Beau, and are we really surprised? 🤣🤪

But, in all seriousness, it sounds like it's going to be a bit of Big Sky meets The Bachelor, and I'm not sure how I'm feeling about that. I am firmly Team Arlen and Hoyt. Give me Beau and Jenny, or give me nothing (I'd say "or give me death", as hyperbole, but they actually might, they might be planning to kill Beau off, and I don't think I can handle that 😱), I will go down with this ship.gif ✊🏻💕

Carla 🤦🏻‍♀️ I really hope the "he's still in love" thread is there to show him getting over it, I really don't want to see him running for the whole season after someone who doesn't love him. Also confirmed that she left him for Avery? Not, she left Beau and then met Avery and married him, but that she left him specifically to be with rich tech dude, who may or may not (leaning heavily towards may) be involved in something shady. If I disliked her before....... ho, boy 🤨

I'm really intrigued by Jenny and her backstory with her mom, we haven't gotten to see a lot of her background in the past, and I'm really looking forward to that.

Both Jensen and Katheryn being on board the Beau and Jenny relationship solidifies my personal feelings about it, because they're both incredible at their jobs, at knowing their characters inside and out, so I trust their instincts, and it's nice to know that depth and chemistry in the relationship is something they're seeing too, and, I'm just in general very excited to see that develop, see how they are in their current dynamic, and hopefully see that turn into something more! I want to see Beau and Jenny work together, rely on and support each other, their flirty banter, hopefully lots of deeper scenes with them talking about their pasts, helping each other heal, panicking when the other is in danger, job hazard as it may be, continuing to gaze at each other for Reasons™️ (no, I'm still not over the car scene 🥺), admitting their feelings and acting on them. I want it all, the whole package 💑💞🔥

Another thread I'm really excited to see is the backstory of why he retired. He's very young to even be a sheriff, let alone a retired one, so he was clearly very good at his job already if he was made sheriff that young. And then something happened that forced him to leave it all behind, and we know it was something traumatic that he went through, someone who he couldn't save from themselves. I really want to hear more about that, and we know Jensen always kills those kinds of scenes (but then, he absolutely knocks all his scenes out of the park, so there's that 🤣👏🏻 I still want this particular backstory though).

[missmagooglie]

Ok, so this started as a comment on a different post but it got long.

Besties, I want a Madney wedding. For a long time I thought that Madney was one of those couples who might just do the whole "committed but not married" thing and it would work for them, but I don't think that narrative works for them anymore.

Because for Buck and Maddie, it all comes back to that conversation about the "fugitive" and the "settler" and how they're both working toward healing the damage their childhood did to their ability to form healthy relationships.

A lot has been said about this re: BuckTaylor and how it's necessary for Buck to recognize his own unhappiness in that relationship and be the one to leave for once instead of clinging to something that isn't working until he's the one who gets left (again).

But Maddie. Oh, Maddie my absolute love. She's the one who runs. She's the one who's first instinct is to put distance between herself and anyone who might have the power to hurt her.

And the way she loves Chimney scares her, but the way Chimney loves her scares her even more because he is so caring and earnest and he tries so damn hard to help her and Maddie doesn't know how to *trust* that kind of love because neither her parents not Doug ever showed her that love could be supportive and unconditional. Love has never been something she could rely on enough to associate it with safety and comfort.

When Maddie left for Boston, she was running away from her perceived failings as a mother to Jee, but also as a partner to Chimney. Her journey in 5b is all about learning that the way she's been struggling does not make her unfit for either of those roles.

Maddie's mostly been working on the first role, mother. And her one constant source of love, Buck, has been great at helping her realize that she hasn't failed Jee. Maddie left Buck (ie, the first kid she raised) and when she came back into her life she was met with love and acceptance. She was able to see the way Buck's joy at having her back in his life far outweighed any hurt and resentment he felt about her leaving. She struggles with the guilt of missing that part of Jee's life, but is able to embrace her role as Jee's mother knowing that even if she can't make up for the past she has an important role in Jee's future.

Maddie doesn't have a roadmap to realize that the same is true of her role as Chimney's partner. She was young when Doug sank his claws into her, and she spent years in an abusive marriage with a man who demanded perfection from her, who didn't support her when she was struggling, who punished instead of forgiving. And as much as she knows that Chimney is not and could never be like Doug, she's still been conditioned to believe that when something goes wrong in her romantic relationship she is at fault. She broke up with Chimney for his sake, because she doesn't think she can be the partner he deserves (and all the while Chimney is agreeing to the breakup because he believes it's what's best for Maddie. It's all very "Gift of the Magi" of them.)

Ultimately, I think the breakup was a good thing for them to do so that Maddie could focus on becoming a parent again. When Maddie first came back, there was too much of an imbalance between Chim's parenting knowledge as the sole caregiver for six months and Maddie's lack of parenting knowledge as the one who hadn't been present. Being broken up and spending time with Jee apart from one another gave Maddie the space she needed to re-learn how to be an equal parent when all of Chim's well-intentioned efforts to catch her up on Jee's life just stoked Maddie's guilt for missing so much.

But now that Maddie's had time to reacclimate to motherhood, hopefully she can start working her way back to believing that she is worthy of the kind of love and devotion that Chimney so desperately wants to give her. And that's why I want a Madney wedding at the end of their story. I want Maddie to be able to embrace the permanence of Chimney's love for her. I want her to be able to believe with her whole heart that it is unconditional and true. I want a symbolic gesture that she's not putting on the breaks anymore. She's not hedging her bets or making an exit plan. Maddie the fugitive finally lets herself settle, and she lives happily ever after.